


catch you when you fall

by maxverstappens (juliansweigl)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: 5 +1, M/M, and idiots, cute idiot boyfriends in love, they're cute ok, this fic is a mess!, this isn’t super angsty omg can you guys believe it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 04:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliansweigl/pseuds/maxverstappens
Summary: Max hates that look. He wholeheartedly hates it when Daniel looks at him with such fucking fondness in his eyes because it causes Max’s stomach to twist in a familiar yet so unfamiliar way.or, the five times that Dan and Max kiss and the one time that it means something.





	catch you when you fall

**Author's Note:**

> hey. hi. yo. what's up? i'm back, again, with another dumb one shot because this idea wouldn't leave me alone so i just had to write it. i hope you enjoy buds, and anyway time to work on updating my actual fic (stuck in my head)! peace out + i hope you enjoy this :) (also it turned out way longer than i thought it would so fun!) (also yes i changed the title after posting bc my friend suggested a better one! lmao)

**Malaysia, 2017**

 

Daniel lost sight of him a good ten minutes ago. Max went into the crowd after the podium and they’ve been separated ever since.

 

It’s _fine_ though _._ They’re not completely codependent on each other yet where they can’t spare each other’s company for the sake of twenty minutes.

 

Still, the champagne sticks to his neck and mats and flattens his curls to his forehead as he pulls at the sleeves of his overalls until he can tie them around his waist. It’s only when he’s trying to tousle his hair to look less like a birds nest does he see a familiar mop of hair and immediately make a b-line for his teammate - realising pretty late on how absurd he must look just following him with a safe but _definitely_ creepy to the eye distance between them.

 

Max is just about to disappear around a corner when Daniel leaps (stumbles) forward and wraps his hand around Max’s wrist, pulling him to a swift halt and turning him around.

 

“Hey.” Daniel smirks,

 

Max looks behind his teammate before allowing himself to relax and smile, “where did you come from?”

 

Daniel shrugs and leans against the nearest wall, gaze flickering over Max’s face. “Nowhere,” he laughs, “I’ve just been looking for you. I didn’t really get a chance to say much after the race but mate, I’m _so_ proud of you.”

 

Daniel half expects Max to roll his eyes at the sappiness in his voice but Max just shrugs and the smile on his face doesn’t seem to fade despite the fact.

 

“You’re going to have that World Championship before you know it.” Daniel grins, there’s a teasing hint to his voice and he’s watching Max carefully to gauge his reaction,

 

Max rolls his eyes but let’s Daniel pull him into a quick, clumsy hug nevertheless. Max resists for a second, wanting to roll his eyes once more at the excessive affection but he doesn’t and he slides his arms around Daniel’s waist instead, dropping his head to his teammate’s shoulder and taking two precise but somewhat shaky deep breaths as the result sinks in, as the day sinks in and Max lets his shoulders drop.

 

It’s only when Max feels long, deft fingers in his hair, twisting at the longer strands does he fully succumb to the relaxation that he’s feeling. The feelings of euphoria still shoots through his veins and make him dizzy with the overwhelming sense of pride he has in himself, the team, that feeling of winning the race, his _second ever_ race.

 

“I’m glad _you_ were there with me, it’s always better when you’re there.” Max mumbles out, eyes dropping as he forces himself to stay awake, blinking until his eyes sting. “Double podium and that.” Max adds as an afterthought,

 

Daniel’s hand stills in Max’s hair, eyebrows furrowing at Max’s words but Max doesn’t seem to react, he just stands there and brushes his hand through his hair, fingers hitting Dan’s. Daniel nods and swallows thickly,

 

“Yeah, mate, it’s always a good weekend when it ends in a double podium.” He agrees but the laugh afterwards sounds forced,

 

Max doesn’t notice.

 

***

 

The team are out celebrating the weekend and Max’s birthday from the day before but despite that, Daniel still has his hand curled around the same beer he’s been drinking for nearly an hour, he’s barely made a dent in the drink as the team around him are all at various stages of drunkenness. Daniel starts pulling at the label of the bottle and heaves a sigh that seems overly dramatic for the fact there’s nothing to feel so pensive about, it’s a celebration and he’s feeling the same type of dejection that comes with an early retirement.

 

Daniel swivels on the stool he’s sitting in and looks across the room to where Max is happily talking away to, well, he’s talking to anybody that’s going to listen to him because in all honesty he looks two drinks away from passing out and that in itself should be enough to amuse Daniel and push him to want to go and call his teammate out for being a lightweight.

 

Unfortunately, or luckily, either way, something hard crashes into Daniel’s back just seconds after he’s swung back around, arms wrap around his middle and a heavy head falls to his shoulder - muffled laughter accompanies it.

 

“Hi, Max.” Daniel greets without glancing back,

 

“How it you me know?” Max asks, drunkenly slurring and mixing up his words so badly that Daniel wonders if Max is actually speaking to him in a different language.

 

“Lucky guess.” Daniel grins as he spins back around, Max stumbles and just about manages to grab hold of the bar to keep himself upright. “Jesus, Max, how _drunk_ are you?”

 

“M’not drunk, Dan.” Max huffs, frowning as he leans in closer to get a better look of the Aussie, lifting his hand and poking Daniel rather harshly in the cheek. “M’sober.”

 

Daniel snorts. “Looks like it, _lightweight._ ” He regards fondly as his hands grasp Max’s arms to keep him from swaying every couple of seconds.

 

“I can prove it!” Max suddenly exclaims as he spins around and slips, falling flat on the floor and narrowly missing hitting the back of his head on the bar. “I _cannot_ prove it.”

 

Daniel watches him with an amused smile. “Ready to call it a night?”

 

Max slowly nods, eyes starting to drop as he tilts his head back to be able to look up at Daniel, already stretching out his arms towards him.

 

“Lightweight,” Daniel teases once more, hopping off the bar stool and wrapping his hands around Max’s, pulling him to his feet and not batting an eyelid when Max curls into his side almost immediately.

 

They say their goodbyes and Max mumbles about whatever comes to mind, almost hitting Dan in the face with one of his flailing arms. Daniel ends up having to drag him to the lift once they’re back at the hotel and pushes him against the wall to keep him from falling into a heap on the floor. His arms are either side of Max and Max is staring at him, head to the side as he grins lopsidedly at Daniel,

 

“Your hair is pretty.” He comments, moving one of his hands to Dan’s hair and clumsily dragging his fingers through the curls.

 

Daniel winces when Max’s fingers get caught but he doesn’t try and stop him. The hardest struggle of the night is trying to pull the keycard out of Max’s hand, Max trying his hardest to hide it away from Dan and the two of them ending up in compromising positions that neither (drunk or not) would want to explain should anybody catch them.

 

“Max, give it.” Daniel huffs, snapping his fingers,

 

“Mean.”

 

“I know.” Daniel sighs as he swipes the card from Max’s hand when Max gets distracted by one of the paintings hung in the hallway. Unlocking the door, Dan pushes it open and pulls Max into the room by his wrist. “Get some sleep, okay?”

 

“Stay?” A small voice asks when Daniel opens the bathroom door,

 

Looking back, Max is sitting on the edge of the bed with glassy eyes and his hands wrung together looking a hell of a lot younger than his twenty years but he’s staring straight at him, Dan laughs nervously,

 

“Why? Scared of the dark?” He teases.

 

Max just continues looking hopeful and Daniel inwardly curses when he feels his resolve starting to melt at the pathetic and almost helpless expression on Max’s face. _For fuck sake._

 

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute.” Daniel dismisses with a small wave of his hand as he walks into the bathroom and fills a glass with cold water, taking pity on how hungover Max is going to be tomorrow and exiting the bathroom to find Max lying on the bed now, face down, grumbling now that the brisk walk has caused some of the alcohol to start wearing off. “Max? Mate, you’re not going to fall asleep like that.”

 

Max just harrumphs into the pillow and doesn’t make a move to lift his head. Daniel just places the glass on the bedside table and leans down so that he’s eye level with the bed and gently brushes his hand through Max’s hair,

 

“Come on. You’ll regret it in the morning.” Daniel tries,

 

“Morning already. Already regret.” Max mumbles but he’s already sitting up and rubbing his eyes, stifling a yawn as he clambers off the bed and heads over to where his suitcase is thrown open to grab clothes.

 

Daniel just sighs and falls on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he hears continuous crashes in the bathroom - some things are not too dissimilar from Max being sober after all.

 

“Okay?” Dan asks him when Max walks out of the bathroom looking just a _little_ worse for wear.

 

Max nods and flops on the bed, twisting himself in the blankets as he drops his head to the pillow and glances over at Daniel through a sleepy haze. Daniel sighs and makes himself comfortable on the opposite side of the bed, watching as Max continues to fight sleep,

 

“Dan?”

 

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “What?”

 

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

 

And with that, Max kisses him, barely, he just manages to lean up long enough to press his mouth against Dan’s. Max leans back, gauging Dan’s reaction but before the sense and realisation of what he’s about to do can sink in - Dan has his hand wrapped around the back of Max’s neck and he’s kissing him properly, their lips moulding together as though they have done this a hundred times before.

 

Max falls back onto the pillow the moment that they both lean back and he rolls over so that his back is facing Daniel as the Aussie stares at him, wide-eyed, confused-

 

“Max?”

 

No response. Daniel kicks his leg, Max jostles but doesn’t react. Daniel tries again and again but every effort falls short and it becomes clearer and clearer that Max is out for the count. _What the fuck?_

 

Daniel stares up at the ceiling, wincing when he realises that in all its cliché glory, he can still feel Max’s lips against his own and it quickly dawns on Daniel that despite how _wrong_ the kiss seemed to be on the one hand, on the other - he _enjoyed_ it.

 

 

 

**Japan, 2017**

 

To say everything changed after the night in Malaysia would be a lie… absolutely nothing changed - mainly because Max doesn’t seem to remember a fucking thing about the night. Nothing from the podium onwards and it should be reassuring for Daniel except all Dan wants to do is grab Max by the shoulders and ask him outright if he remembers what happened.

 

He doesn’t do that though. He can’t. He can’t even begin to compromise their working relationship, their friendship, he needs things to remain the same on every level and so, to put it simply, Dan needs to get over it.

 

_Easier said than done._

 

He’s been fine for the entire weekend thus far, they’ve done a few videos, got through free practice and qualifying, spent time hanging onto each other in a way that is definitely not platonic upon first glance and Daniel so far hasn’t brought up the kiss.

 

Except now, they’re celebrating another double podium and Max is watching Daniel carefully from the other side of Lewis with an unreadable expression on his face, chewing the inside of his cheek as he looks like he’s fighting back the urge to say something. Daniel looks away, waving to the crowd - he’s not getting his hopes up for anything.

 

Max keeps glancing over to him for the next few minutes before getting distracted by interviews. Daniel does too but unlike Max, he’s welcoming talking about the race with open arms whilst Max doesn’t look like he wants to talk about anything at all.

 

Daniel takes one last glance over at Max as he’s finishing his final interview and for someone who finished second, Max looks utterly disheartened and Daniel is dragged out of his thoughts by another question before he can even begin to wonder what thoughts are flying through his head.

 

Max disappears from his last interview before Daniel finishes his and Dan tries to keep from looking too eager to leave but as soon as he answers his last question - he all but bolts in the general direction of where he think Max headed. He stops dead outside of Max’s motorhome and hesitates, beginning to talk himself out of it because does he _really_ need to get involved in this - providing he’s right in assuming what’s on Max’s mind. He knows he would be better just pushing this so far back into his head that it moulds into his subconscious and he can move on with his life _but-_

 

He’s knocked on the door before he realises and it’s only when the small but hoarse _come in_ is heard does Daniel open the door and walk in. Max is lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and it’s clear to see that he’s frowning but Daniel’s not going to get ahead of himself.

 

“Come on mate, second place isn’t _that_ bad.” Daniel jokes, kicking at Max’s foot, “you can’t win them all.”

 

“You know this isn’t about the race.” Max deadpans, flicking his gaze over to Daniel and scrutinizing him silently before staring back up at the ceiling,

 

Daniel sucks in a sharp breath and backs up until he can lean against the wall, arms folded across his chest as silence overcomes the both of them, both wondering what to say next, neither _honestly_ want to admit that it happened but now that it’s evident that Max remembers - neither has a fucking clue how they’re supposed to move past it and play it off as a drunken mistake - something which sounds _so_ appealing to Dan right now.

 

“You know it’s not a big deal, you don’t have to make it into one. I’m pretty sure I’ve kissed worse people when I was drunk.” Daniel grins, trying to play the situation off lightly but an unsuspecting pang of hurt smacks against his chest at the same time and it catches Daniel so far off-guard that he nearly stumbles.

 

“You weren’t drunk though. I saw you, the whole night, you didn’t even finish one drink. There’s no _fucking_ way that you were drunk.”

 

Daniel winces and lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck as he tries to come up with a counter argument to that, a way to prove that he could have been a little drunker than he actually was but Max is _right_ and it pains him to admit it - he was pretty much, stone-cold sober by the time they had even left the club, let alone by the time they were back at the hotel.

 

“I - so?” Daniel shoots back, knowing full well that it barely constitutes an argument but he can’t think of anything else to say,

 

“So? Why did you kiss me?” Max asks and instead of looking as annoyed as his tone of voice would imply, he looks genuinely curious and it’s in some ways it’s off putting.

 

“You kissed me first.”

 

Daniel is fully aware that he sounds like a petulant child who isn’t getting his own way and he’s sure he’s ten or so seconds from storming out and letting this situation hang over their heads for the rest of the season.

 

“I was drunk.”

 

“Not drunk enough to forget it, which is… surprising.” Daniel draws out sarcastically, throwing his head back against the wall and heaving a sigh, “Just say what you want to say, okay?”

 

“I didn’t hate it.” Max admits and if Daniel wasn’t already looking at him, he would have _definitely_ missed the faint shade of pink dusting Max’s cheeks at the confession.

 

The words hang in the air for an obscene amount of time. There’s a split second when Daniel half expects Max to start laughing and make a big deal of how pale Daniel is aware he must be but neither of them say anything until Daniel does-

 

“So… I’m a good kisser then?”

 

“Fuck off.” Max barks out with a laugh, covering his face with his hands as Daniel’s laughter rings around the room only adding to Max’s embarrassment.

 

Daniel pushes himself off the wall and walks until he can push Max and sit beside him on the couch. “You can admit it, I won’t embarrass you.” He smirks, nudging Max’s shoulder with his own.

 

“You’re a dick.” Max growls but there’s absolutely no malice to his voice and he even chances glancing over at Dan out of the corner of his eye.

 

Daniel is grinning at him. Max closes his eyes and sighs before removing his hands from his face and flipping Daniel off,

 

“I really wish I hadn’t told you that.” Max groans, embarrassment evident on his face as he grabs the nearest cushion and holds it in front of his face as he feels Daniel’s body shaking with laughter beside him. “Shut up, it’s not even funny.”

 

“It’s a little funny. Want to do it again?” Daniel asks, and he’s half joking and doesn’t expect Max’s face to pale in the way that it does. “Do you?”

 

Max scoffs but doesn’t offer any other kind of response. Daniel raises his eyebrows and watches to try and gauge Max’s reaction but Max, give him his credit, is schooling his expression to remain as neutral as possible.

 

“Max-”

 

Max cuts him off by surging forward and kissing him. It’s an awkward fucking angle from where they’re both sitting and Max’s head knocks against Daniel’s forehead causing them both to hiss when Daniel gets an idea and grins, pulling Max until the younger is straddling Daniel. Max freezes for the briefest of seconds and it gives Daniel all the opportunity he needs to take control and lick into Max’s mouth.

 

Max tries, he really _tries_ to regain control of the kiss but Dan’s hands are holding his hips firmly in place and he’s nudging Max’s nose with his own, snickering slightly when Max mutters something against his mouth.

 

“So… Better than the first?” Daniel asks when they both break apart, trying to pull the oxygen back into their lungs.

 

“I like it better when you don’t talk.” Max sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

 

 

**Monaco, 2018**

 

Max can’t hear himself think. The music in the club is blaring so loudly, resonating off every solid surface as Max spins around, a half drunk beer in his hand as he looks for Dan - having lost him a few minutes back.

 

They’re out celebrating Daniel’s win in Monaco and to say that _anybody_ from the team in the club are any kind of sober right now would be the biggest lie since Max told himself that he doesn’t have feelings for Daniel.

 

The thought flashing through his head for the briefest of seconds is enough for Max to swap his beer for vodka and drink until he’s too drunk to remember his own name. Max takes another drag of beer when he hears a familiar laugh in his ears and Daniel’s arms wrapping clumsily around his waist as drops his head to Max’s shoulder.

 

“You good?” Max asks but he highly doubts that Daniel can hear him over the noise but nevertheless he feels Dan nod and his curls, damp with sweat brush against Max’s neck as Daniel’s hold on Max tightens - but Max is almost certain that’s because Daniel couldn’t keep his balance by himself. “You sure?”

 

“Never better, mate.” Daniel slurs, suddenly slipping and trying to grasp Max’s shirt to keep himself upright but all he ends up doing is pushing the both of them to the floor.

 

Max groans when Daniel’s weight falls atop of him, the latter finding the situation a whole lot fucking funnier than Max who is pretty sure he’s fallen in something sticky that he really _doesn’t_ want to know the name of - he prays it’s beer but the likelihood of it being something ten times worse isn’t entirely impossible.

 

“Sorry.” Daniel hiccups and scrambles to his feet, extending his hand to Max,

 

Max looks at Dan’s hand skeptically, there is _absolutely_ no way that Daniel is going to be able to help him back to his feet by the state he’s in but Max takes his hand nevertheless and Daniel _tries,_ he really does but in the end Max just jumps back to his feet and musters up his best glare towards the Aussie.

 

“I dare you to do shots with me.” Daniel grins,

 

Max’s face falls. “No fucking way.”

 

Daniel steps closer, his grin turning to a smirk. “I’ll make it worth your while,”

 

Never has a proposition sounded so sinister.

 

***

 

It takes Max four shots of vodka in a row for the nausea to set in and send him hurtling towards the nearest door to throw up in the street outside - it’s not going to be his finest moment, he knows that even through his drunken haze. He ends up throwing up in the bushes and for his own sake he hopes that they’re fake and plastic so that he hasn’t ended up killing them. He stumbles until he backs up against the wall and feels the damp bricks soaking through his t-shirt in a way that has him grimacing for a brand new reason as the cool air hits him in a welcomed action as he tries to push his hair away from where it’s matted down to his forehead.

 

The nauseous feeling still sits in the pit of Max’s stomach as he drops his head back against the wall as he takes deep breaths through his nose to try and calm the overwhelming urge to throw up again when he sees the door to the club open and Daniel appear with a glass of clear liquid.

 

“If that’s more vodka, I’ll slap you.” Max threatens half-heartedly,

 

Daniel just grins and slides up so that he’s stood beside Max and holds out the glass to him. Max takes the glass skeptically and carefully lifts it, taking a sip and sighing a huge sigh of relief when it’s just water.

 

“What do you take me for?” Daniel asks, nudging Max’s shoulder looking extremely offended at Max’s carefulness.

 

“You don’t want to know.” Max retorts as he continues to take sips of water.

 

Once the glass is empty, Max places it aside and tilts his head to the side to glance up at Daniel through his eyelashes. Daniel is smirking at him,

 

“Lightweight.” He teases,

 

“M’not a lightweight, Dan.” Max mumbles, shoving at Daniel’s shoulder but Daniel is quicker and grabs Max’s hand.

 

Daniel’s gaze flickers down to Max’s lips before he meets Max’s eyes and it’s almost as though he’s wordlessly asking Max for his permission. Max would _probably_ find it sort of endearing if he wasn’t fumbling around trying to grab a hold of Dan’s shirt to pull him closer. In the end, Dan’s free hand is against the wall as he leans down and kisses Max slowly. Max laughs though he has no idea why and just slides his arm around Dan’s waist.

 

They kiss until they can’t breathe anymore and Daniel drops his head to Max’s shoulder, still holding onto his hand as the pair of them pull the oxygen back into their lungs, the early morning breeze starting to hit them both strong enough for the alcohol to start to wear off. Max lets his eyes flutter between open and closed and Daniel notices,

 

“Ready to go?”

 

“Really? You don’t want to drink until you pass out?” Max teases, jabbing Dan in the ribs as a small but tired smile tugs at the corners of the Aussie’s lips. “Old man,”

 

“I feel it.” Daniel huffs but he still glares at Max for the old man comment. “Let’s go,”

 

Wrapping his arm around Max’s shoulders; the pair of them stumble down the road, the noise of the club drowning out the further they get away and Max tries not to think about how fucking _right_ this all feels. It’s not the time. It’s never the time.

 

 

 

 ******Monaco, 2018 (again)**

 

The air is cool and hits Max the second that he steps out onto the balcony and it’s a welcomed relief for how stuffy the apartment is with the swarms of people and alcohol that’s flying across the room. Leaning against the balcony, Max drops his head to his arms and exhales deeply trying to drag the oxygen back into his lungs as he takes in the skyline and the streetlights that light up the view around him. It’s not too cold but it’s not entirely warm but it’s better than being unable to breathe inside the apartment so Max is going to take it as a win.

 

Turning around; Max almost winces when he sees Carlos stood atop of the coffee table, slipping and sliding in every direction - it’s a surprise that nobody has hurt themselves yet but it’s still early, plenty of time for disaster to strike.

 

The door slides open and Max turns his head towards Dan walking out, looking equally as tired but still nursing a bottle of beer. Daniel slumps down in one of the plastic chairs and kicks his legs up to press his feet against the balcony and look up at Max though he looks seconds away from falling asleep.

 

“Can we tell them to go yet?” Dan asks, rolling his eyes when he hears a loud crash come from inside,

 

Max hums in agreement. “Sure, you’re older, you do it.”

 

“Your apartment.” Dan argues but he makes absolutely no effort to move and instead just extends his hand out towards Max and gestures for him to come closer.

 

Max stretches his arms above his head before sliding along the balcony so that he’s almost stood in front of Dan. Max ignores the screech of his name coming from inside and instead worries his bottom lip between his teeth and tries to ignore the bubbling ball of anxiety forming in his stomach. Things hadn’t been weird since Max’s dumbstruck realisation that he might be a _tiny_ bit in love with his teammate, mainly because Max swore to himself that he’s taking _that_ secret to the grave if it’s the last thing he ever does but Daniel is curling up on the chair and the bottle of beer is close to slipping from his hand as he looks back into the apartment and snorts when Carlos _finally_ falls off the coffee table like he’s been threatening to do for the last ten minutes.

 

Daniel puts his bottle on the table before turning back around and staring across the balcony and stifling his yawn as Max hangs awkwardly where he is, hanging off the balcony and glancing inside to the apartment every couple of seconds. The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable, it’s rare that they are, the two of them don’t always need to be talking about whatever random thoughts come to mind but Max is fighting back the urge not to say something, not to profess his love in such an unlikely way that’s going to have figuring jumping from the balcony wouldn’t be the worst thing.

 

Max is dragged out of his thoughts by the chair scraping and Daniel stumbling to his feet, and for a second, Max’s shoulders deflate when he assumes Dan’s going back inside but Dan walks the short distance to him and stands in front of him.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Max furrows his eyebrows before shaking his head, “nothing?” He replies but it comes out as a question rather than a believable response.

 

“ _Max._ ” Dan sing-songs and places his hands on the balcony railing, either side of Max and enclosing him in, it wouldn’t surprise Max if that was the plan, he’s going to have to stay here until he admits or comes up with a believable lie. “You just look out of it, are you sick?” Daniel asks though he’s smirking because Max has been threatening to come down with a cold for the last week but Max keeps stubbornly somehow avoiding it.

 

“I’m fine. It’s just hotter than a sauna in there and I wanted a breather.” Max shrugs, looking down at his hands to avoid the intense glimmer in Dan’s eyes,

 

“You’re sure?” Daniel asks and his voice has softened to barely above a whisper now and he’s staring at Max with an unreadable glimmer in his eyes but there’s also so much concern in his face that Max feels his anxieties unravelling in an instant.

 

Max _hates_ that look. He wholeheartedly hates it when Daniel looks at him with such fucking fondness in his eyes because it causes Max’s stomach to twist in a familiar yet so unfamiliar way and he can’t handle the tender touches and the way that Dan cares about him, the way it’s so different to the way he treats everybody else. He doesn’t treat Max like he’s made of glass but he treats Max carefully, looks out for him more, seeks him out when they’ve been separated for minutes or hours instead of weeks and months.

 

Max shrugs and leans up to press his mouth against Dan’s almost desperately, mainly to stop his stomach untangling and tangling into knots and also because Dan looks really fucking good in the reflection of the streetlights and the warm orange hits his curls in a way that makes him look almost irresistible.

 

Daniel’s hands are on either side of Max’s neck, his thumbs brushing along Max’s jaw, the feel causes Max to snicker against Dan’s mouth and almost shy away from the touch but Daniel holds him where he is.

 

It’s only when there’s a second crash from inside the apartment do they pull away and Daniel makes a huge deal of kicking everybody out - much to their disappointment.  

 

 

 

**Hungary, 2018**

 

Max is pacing his hotel room, burning a hole into the carpet he’s sure as he drags a hand through his hair and tries to steady his breathing. He’s got this wrong, he _has_ to have gotten this wrong, Dan isn’t leaving - Dan _wouldn’t_ leave. Not him, not the team, he _wouldn’t_ and Max is sure of it. He paces once more, biting down on his thumbnail and tries to force himself to accept that this is just some sick prank - _and why the fuck is Dan taking so long to get here? His room is two doors away._ Max has his back to the door when he hears the soft clicking of it unlocking and the door swinging open,

 

“Tell me it’s not true.” Max begs before he can even be certain that Daniel’s entered the room. “Tell me this a fucking joke, Dan.” Max mutters, swallowing down the sob that’s threatening to tear at his throat as he stares at the reflection of Daniel still stood by the door through the window underneath the streetlights.

 

“Max-” Daniel tries but he can’t get his words out, he just lets the door shut behind him and leans against it, trying to shield himself from things flying from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds.

 

Max still stubbornly stands with his back to Daniel and his arms crossed over his chest defensively. Daniel sighs and drags a hand through his curls, the words, the confirmation sits on the tip of his tongue but they’re stuck, he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to get them out - not knowing what it’s going to do to the both of them. They’ve joked about it, naturally, they’ve made passing comments about what would happen should one of them leave. They’ve talked about it on a more serious note, after bad races and both of them feel just a little insecure about their positions. Those conversations feel in bad taste now, like a foreshadowing of what was to come and the thought alone has Daniel wanting to bolt and just leave this conversation for another day… or never.

 

Max slowly turns around, swallowing thickly as he finally meets Dan’s eyes. There’s all manner of emotions flashing through - hurt, fury, guilt, a hint of hope. Max unfolds his arms and drops them to his side in a sense that can only be described as acceptance, he bounces back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at Daniel.

 

Daniel nods, dropping his gaze immediately, his hand is still on the door handle and he’s ready to leave as soon as Max starts shouting but the yelling doesn’t come and instead there’s a thick, tense smoke of air hanging above their heads as the only sound from the room is the traffic outside and a couple of voices outside in the hallway. Daniel braves looking back up and Max is staring at him, his eyes are glassy but he’s mulishly not allowing himself to cry or even show a hint of any type of emotion, his face is blank and that fucking terrifies Dan. It feels like forever stuffed into a minute before the anger courses through Max’s veins and he glares at Dan,

 

“What the fuck?!”

 

Daniel sighs and braces himself,

 

“You’re just going to fucking leave? What? Like that? You made that decision and just expected it to be smooth? Did you even think about the impacts of this?!” Max continues to yell, “So… humour me, what was it? The money? Probably.” He laughs bitterly.

 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Max takes three long strides before something unintelligible flashes in his eyes and all the anger subsides immediately and he pales as though he’s been slapped silly. He opens his mouth to say something but he looks pain-stricken and petrified at voicing the words aloud.

 

“Say it.” Daniel pushes, regretting it precisely four seconds later when Max asks the question that’s rendered him almost speechless,

 

“Are you leaving because of me?”

 

Daniel winces, wishing there was an option to choose not to answer. He just shrugs - there have been plenty of instances when Dan wished in the heat of the moment that they were not teammates though he promptly regretted those when he remembers that out of all the teammates he’s had - there’s nobody quite like Max. Max’s heaving sigh brings Daniel’s attention back to him but the second that Dan tries to reach out - Max backs away and looks positively outraged at Daniel trying to act as though this isn’t as big of a deal as it actually is.

 

“Answer my question.” Max grits out, staring pointedly at the floor,

 

“I don’t want to.” Daniel grimaces,

 

“So… you are. If you don’t want to answer, it’s my fault.” Max summarises, laughing sadly and folding his arms over defensively once more,

 

“It doesn’t mean that. Would you believe _any_ reason for leaving that I give you?” Daniel counters,

 

This time Max doesn’t answer, proving both of their points. Max just leans against the back of the couch and deliberately stares out of the window with a scowl on his face. Daniel takes a second to regain his composure before ignoring the protests from Max and coming to stand in front of him. Max doesn’t turn his head which initially causes Dan to roll his eyes as he turns Max’s face around so that they’re staring at each other.

 

“It’s not you, okay?”

 

Max rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Still leaving though,” he frowns, sounding as petulant as his actions would give him credit for.

 

“True, but after this season and last time I checked we still had four months of _this_ season left and I seriously doubt you can keep up being mad at me for that long.” Daniel states matter-of-factly.

 

Leaning in closer; Dan presses his forehead against Max’s, “also, I don’t think you want to stay mad at me.”

 

Max’s gaze flickers down to Dan’s lips before he meets his eyes again and he only offers a shrug in response. “I don’t know, I’m still pretty mad.”

 

Daniel hums and their lips are practically inches apart at this point. “Sure?”

 

“Shut up.” Max grumbles, kicking Dan’s ankle to emphasize his point but Daniel only retaliates by closing the gap between them.

 

 

 

**Baku, 2019**

 

It’s been a year, exactly a year. A fucking year since Max stumbled upon to the realisation that he might be in love with Daniel and a year and a half since he realised that he actually _enjoys_ kissing Daniel and what a year and a half it’s been - Max snorts thinking about it, thinking about the teammate shake-ups, thinking about the highs and lows and how 2019 hasn’t exactly been the best start.

 

He knows about what happened between Dan and Daniil during the race and fought against his conscience for a split second to keep his concentration on his own job at hand but he still wanted an update and Christian gave it to him that Daniel had been forced to retire again - Christian had long given up on denying Max updates about Dan during this season and they’re only four races in.

 

Max tries to get his interviews over as quickly as possible, his fingers twitching as he talks about the race and tries to maintain eye contact and listen to the questions that he’s being asked with intent but he keeps getting distracted.

 

Max answers the last question as quickly as he can before he can duck away from the reporters as swiftly as possible without seeming rude. Max tries to calm the nervous energy coursing through his veins, he has _absolutely_ nothing to be nervous about but there’s a shred of hope clinging to his chest as he quickens his pace until he reaches Daniel’s motorhome, he bangs on the door a lot harsher than he initially wanted to and the hoarse  _come in_ follows a few seconds later.  

 

Max pulls the door open and steps inside; Dan’s lying on the couch and looking extremely sorry for himself but he glances over at Max when Max shuts the door.

 

“I don’t want sympathy.” Daniel manages to choke out before Max has even had a chance to say anything,

 

Max snorts and looks rather amused at his former teammate’s words. “Sympathy? Do you even know me at all? I’m the _worst_ when it comes to sympathy.”

 

Daniel manages a weak smile and nods in agreement as Max sits on the arm of the couch so that he’s facing Daniel who still hasn’t made an effort to sit up.

 

“I fucked up.” Daniel sighs, dragging a hand through his curls and staring up at the ceiling whilst Max frowns and lets his hand fall to rest against Dan’s leg. “I probably deserved that retirement, how did I manage to fuck it up so bad?” He asks but he’s laughing bitterly, rolling his eyes at the same time. “We’ve had four races this year but this year is already _worse_ than last.”

 

“Dan…” Max trails off, half wanting to tell him to shut the fuck up complaining because there _has_ only been four races but the other half doesn’t want to risk pissing him off further so he just curls in on himself and sighs. “Things are going to turn around, you know?”

 

Daniel glances over to Max with raised eyebrows as he waits for an elaboration that doesn’t come. Daniel just shrugs and goes back to wallowing in self-pity,

 

“I miss you, you know?” Daniel mumbles out barely a minute later, “I miss being teammates.”

 

Max smirks, “I wish I was recording that, it would make _great_ blackmail material.”

 

“You’re such a dick.” Daniel grumbles and grabs the nearest object to him which happens to be an empty water bottle and throws it in Max’s general direction but Max catches it and spins it between his fingers. “I’m being serious, Nico’s great but-” Daniel hesitates and looks unusually nervous about what he wants to say next, gaze flickering around the room and he licks his lips before refocusing his attention on Max again. “- He’s not you.”

 

The words are said with such seriousness that Max is momentarily caught off-guard from the intensity in Dan’s eyes and the way he’s staring at him - the same way he stared at him on the balcony at Max’s apartment and Max can feel his stomach churning as he forces himself to focus on something else, _anything_ else but Daniel is sitting up and he’s directly in Max’s eyeline.

 

“Max-”

 

“- Don’t.” Max mutters, worrying his lip between his teeth as he stares at the wall and tries to calm his steady heartbeat, “don’t do this to me.”

 

“Do what, Max? What am I doing?” Daniel asks, lifting his hand and pressing his palm against Max’s cheek and Max tries to resist but he’s looking at Dan before he’s even registered moving his gaze. “Tell me what I’m doing and I’ll stop it.”

 

“You’re-” Max starts but he stops just as quickly, shrugging and averting his gaze once again.

 

“ _Max._ ” Dan draws his name out slowly and moves closer to where Max is sitting so that they’re directly in front of each other. “I’m going to go out on a limb but I’m guessing whatever this is - it’s got something to do with the fact you’re not telling me something.”

 

“That obvious, huh?” Max scoffs, inwardly cursing himself for being so transparent.

 

“Not really but you’re forgetting that I know you _pretty_ well.” Dan grins and leans in closer that their foreheads are pressed together. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

 

“Monaco last year.” Max answers without skipping a beat before his cheeks turn pink at his words,

 

“Good win. I can’t remember what that feels like.” Daniel notes, smirking at the blush that’s evident on Max’s cheeks. “You’re not talking about the race though.”

 

Max shakes his head. “I’m not,”

 

“Good.” Daniel mumbles before closing the gap between them and nearly knocking Max off the side of the couch in the process before he slides his arms around the Dutchman’s waist and pulls Max until he’s essentially lying atop of Dan.

 

Max’s lips are slightly chapped against Dan’s and for a split second Daniel laughs at the dumb realisation that there’s nobody else he would rather kiss.

 

“Why are you laughing?” Max asks, rolling his eyes when he leans back because Daniel is struggling to stop himself from laughing,

 

“I’ll tell you later.” He dismisses with a small wave of his hand,

 

Max opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it and instead just sits back so that he’s essentially straddling Dan and he’s got a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

“So… this is a thing now?” Max asks, he looks deeply confused and Daniel instinctively reaches up and smoothes out the frown lines that are beginning to form on his forehead.

 

“If you want.” Daniel shrugs, trying to school his expression.

 

“If I want? I’ve been waiting for this for too fucking long for you to say _if you want._ ” Max huffs and pokes at Daniel’s chest in feigned annoyance,

 

Daniel smirks and leans up to capture Max’s lips between his own once more. “I want this.”

 

Max just kisses him harder and nods, smiling against Daniel’s mouth, “me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr!](https://landonenorris.tumblr.com)


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